hold on, make it last
by weloveuntilwedie
Summary: "Today men have the home court advantage, which has left the ladies (and the lovely homosexual gentlemen) with several types of men."Finn/Rachel, Jake/Marley, Quinn/Puck, Brittany/Sam, Blaine/Kurt, Mike/Tina, t for language, multicouple fic
1. you are

_**based on the movie 'think like a man (act like a lady)' and partly the book i guess. **_

_**if any of the characters are ooc i'm so sorry but i at least i tried? ? ? **_

_**i just love glee so much and these are all my otps and tags confuse me so suck a dick if you're hating on my character tags. **_

_**reviews just make me wanna burst apart in sunshine and rainbows, thank you! ! !**_

_**i own nothing**_

_**title is taken from mine by the best girl on the entire planet taylor swift ;)**_

x

From the beginning of mankind, throughout all of the world's history there have been certain.. rituals. It's true, I learned it in AP History in high school. These rituals were definitive in determining the exact moment when a boy became a man. Ahh, sweet adulthood. How dandy.

For example, there's the moment a _boy_ joins the other _men_ in their first fight. Fun fact: Did you know they used to have public circumcision in front of the entire village? That's so cruel, man. Bless the 21st century. I don't know why I chose to remember _that_ particular part of AP History but... Anyway, moving on.

And of course, there's the most significant moment of all - marriage. That's right, I said it. Marriage. The M-word every straight (maybe it's because for us gay guys it's a privilege that we even get to marry, not a constitutional right) single guy is allergic for. In fact marriage used to be the ultimate goal of boys and men. In the old days, that was the only way a man could get what he really wanted from a woman (in my case, as I found out in my late teens, a man but that's not the point). _Sex_, that's right.

See, now today things have changed, people. I mean we men we don't have to work as hard to get what we want. We've got the internet, thank our lucky stars. I can be whoever I want on the internet. One time I pretended I was the Tony Award winning Hugh Jackman's cute younger brother and an adorable boy complimented my Jackman sideburns.

Today men have the home court advantage, which has left the ladies (and the lovely homosexual gentlemen) with several types of men. I don't - I don't even know where to start. Every group of friends has one.

You have _the player_, in my fortunate case that's Jake Puckerman. I've been friends with his brother, Noah, for years now. He's a great guy if you look past his hugely inflated ego and pathological need to screw (over) every girl he meets. Literally.

There's _the mama's boy_, Finn Hudson. He's been my best friend since preschool, at first we shared our love for making sandcastles at recess and I ate his vegetables while I give him tips on how to style his hair which later evolved into a shared lack of a father figure (I mean mine wasn't really big on the whole gay 'thing' and his was, well, kind of dead) and a hatred for hair gel (by him, not me. God _no_). I guess he just never really grew out of the whole _mommy will you marry me-_phase. There's literally not one conversation in which Carole doesn't get mentioned, called or well, gloated about. I get it, you have a great mom. Whatever.

Then there's _the dreamer_, Noah Puckerman. He goes by Puck most of the time, it's his artist name. In high school he didn't dare to dream but by now (after years of encouragement by Blaine Anderson himself) he's convinced he's going to be a famous singer-songwriter. It's the fourth or fifth time he's changed his dream and God, please let this be the last one. It still beats the portable stripper bus, but enough is enough.

Last but not least, there's _the non-committer_. Sam Evans. He's big on impressions, his body, animated supernatural action comedy movies and video games. He's a total nerd, although you wouldn't say so if you met him. He's been dating this beautiful, talented, _flexible_ (she's a dancer, get your mind out of the gutter) girl called Brittany for like five years now and they're perfect for eachother and he _still_ (so I'm a romantic, what are you going to do about it?) hasn't popped the question. I don't think the Avatar king himself could convince him to do so.

I'm not saying there aren't any good man out there, I mean there's a rare brand too, _the happily married man_. In this case that's Mike Chang for ya. His lovely lady Tina is one of my best friends and they have like twenty kids running around which is exhausting but really cute. I still wonder when Mike finds the time to work out, though, because his abs are like - better than Sam's. And Sam's in the gym five, preferably six times a week for two hours.

And me? That brings me to my personal favorite. I'm Blaine Anderson - _the even happier divorced guy_. I'm fine without Kurt, I don't need him. I'm perfect. I can pick my own bow ties to match with my shoes, thank you very much.

The balance of power in the dating world has shifted and this is the story of my extra-extraordinary group of friends.

x

"And he was always singing along to these annoying rap songs and I was just like, _honey_, we don't live in the ghetto," Blaine breathes heavily from his spot on the treadmill, simultaneously wiping his face with a white towel before throwing it back over his shoulder.

"I'm going to ignore the fifteen racist things you just said there and just tell you to shut up about Kurt already," Jake retorts as he lifts a small weight up and down with his left arm. "Nobody cares."

Finn momentarily stops rowing, wiping some sweat from his forehead with his wrist as he shoots Jake a warning glare. "We do care, but Kurt's like my ex-step-brother, dude. It's weird to hear you whine and moan about him all day."

"Bet Blaine misses those Kurt Hummel moans like no tomorrow, huh?" Puck buts in, smirking as he fastens his pace on the elliptical and slightly deviating to the right, avoiding Blaine's water bottle just in time.

"I know I don't," Sam mumbles from under the weights referring to the period in college him and Blaine were roommates. There were too many memories of late nights, early mornings and even midst of days from that part of his life that made him cringe.

"Guys, Blaine's just lonely-" Mike tries to help his friend out but said friend won't have any of it.

"I object! I am not _lonely_," Blaine spits the last word like it's a Nair care product. "I'm alone. Not lonely. Those are two different things."

"Whatever, I came here to work out, not to grow a vagina," Puck tells them, flexing his biceps as he gets off the elliptical and jerks a weight out of his younger brother's hand, "When did our weekly workouts turn into a _let's-talk-about-our-periods_ sap party? You broke up. Get over it."

"For the last time - Noah Puckerman, I am homosexual _not_ transsexual!"

x

"That's Jake's fourth number this night and he's on his way to the fifth," Finn says as he admires the scene in front of him, Jake hitting on yet another girl and succeeding in it. He gets slipped another piece of paper into his hands before he comes back to the table and sits down, a smug grin on his face.

"That's my little brother," Puck smirks, patting him on the back before taking a swig from his beer.

"The first time I met Kurt we exchanged numbers. Favorite Broadway numbers that is, but still. He was wearing these cute little suspenders and a pink dotted tie. I used to think he dressed cute." Blaine sighs, leaning his head on his balled fists as he stirs his straw around around his _lemon gingerini_. He bitterly adds, "Until he became a dirty old attention whore, of course."

Finn's eyes widen as he slaps Blaine's hand off the drink and shoves it aside, "I think you've had enough for tonight."

"We should have a party when your divorce finalizes," Puck suggests, leaning back in the booth. Blaine is his friend and all, he should like try and cheer him up.

"Sounds like a plan," Jake agrees, finishing his beer.

"It finalizes next Sunday," Blaine retorts sitting up as he smiles a little. A party could be fun. A party would be great! It should take his mind of Kurt Elizabeth Hummel and his annoying preppy voice. God, no, he takes that back. Kurt's voice is like that of an angel.

"I can't do Sunday guys. I have dinner with my mom on Sundays," Finn informs them and they all turn to stare at him. "What? You guys know Sundays are for my mom."

"Seriously?" Puck asks him, raising his eyebrows, "Should I call a social worker or?"

"Fine, I'm in," Finn gives in, frowning. There's no way his mom will let him cancel but he'll float on that river when it.. comes out of the... sea - or whatever.

"Well, you may be able to cancel on your mom but Michael Junior has a dance recital on Sunday. I can't miss it," Mike beams as he tells them.

"So? Your kid sucks. The last time he knocked over a girl and broke her fucking foot," Puck raises his eyebrows.

"Michael Junior has a solo this time -"

"Yeah, because they won't let him near any of the other kids," Finn mutters.

"Look," Puck claps Mike on the shoulder, "I know it sucks since you graduated from like Juillard or some shit but the kid can't dance. He's like Finn.. but then intoxicated."

"Hey!"

"It's true," Sam squeezes Mike's shoulder comfortingly.

Finn tilts his head slightly, "It kind of is."

"I can't cancel. No matter how bad he sucks he's still my kid."

"Fine, whatever you're out," Puck sighs before turning to Blaine. "We'll go to like a multi-sex strip bar because I'm not about to watch a dude get out of a g-string, have some drinks, laugh a little. Sound good?"

"I can't believe you're crying again, Blaine! I told you to stay away from the bar. Girls wear skinny jeans!"

x

"Good morning," Marley smiles as she leans in to kiss her latest catch. She met him last night and although usually she isn't big on sleeping with a guy she just met - there was something special about this one. Ryder Lynn. He opens up his eyes slowly, forcing a smile on his face.

"Good morning, sunshine."

"I got you coffee," she beams as she puts down her coffee on the nightstand, handing him one. "I'll be right back, I just need to change real quick."

"Sure," he says sitting up and putting his coffee down. He waits for Marley to go in the bathroom before rushing around to room to find his clothes and to put them on.

"Do you want to go to the park and have lunch there?" She calls through the door as she takes off her clothes and slips into a bathrobe, looking in the mirror and fixing her hair.

"Sure thing, babe," he calls back as he slips into his jeans and quickly pulls out a note and a pen, his shirt still in his hand.

"Great," she smiles to herself as she touches up her make-up, "We could get a sandwich at Subway and then maybe for dessert we could come back here and.." She opens up the bathroom door to find he isn't there. She looks around when she spots a note.

_I had a nice time, Mary!_

"Mary?" She disbelievingly says to herself as she sighs and falls back onto her bed. "Guys are jerks."

She sticks out her hand to grab her coffee and turns her head when she doesn't feel anything - she frowns. "He took my coffee? I can't believe this, he actually _took _my coffee!"

x

_The Mama's Boy vs. The Single Mom_

Okay, he needed beer, dip and shit.. He needed three things. Beer, dip and... Beer, dip and - shampoo! Right, beer, dip and shampoo. The three essentials of survival.

He walks to the shampoo aisle, looking for the cheapest one when he spots a small woman trying to reach for some sort of conditioner in a blue bottle with a dog on the front. She's wearing a blue dress and her hair is pinned back and she's so tiny but her legs seem to go on forever. There's a book pressed against her chest, a basket dangling from her arm. She blows her bangs from her face as she mutters something to herself and he can't help but smile. She looks really cute so focused and frustrated with herself.

"Do you need some help, miss?"

"No, thank you, I might be vertically impaired but I can handle a bottle of shampoo," she tells him, not even looking at him as she stands even further on her tiptoes.

He reaches for it anyway and offers it to her, causing her to turn her head. She's super pretty. Her eyes are big and brown and her lips are this shade of pink that makes it really hard to look anywhere else and she kind of has a big nose but it fits her in some way.

"I could have handled it," she tells him, putting her free hand on her hip as she peeks at him through her eyelashes. She's super tiny, man, like she doesn't even reach his shoulders. There's a small blush on her cheeks and it makes him grin, which is weird 'cuz he doesn't know her.

"I know, you totally look like one of those kickass chicks from those superhero movies. Like you probably aren't the strongest but I bet you can run fast because you're so, you're so small," he responds and fuck - what is he even saying? His heart is beating a thousand miles and hour by now.

"Well, thank you," she smiles and seriously, like it's unfair how pretty her smile is. She's probably taken or a serial killer or a lesbian or maybe like secretly eighty like that chick from that movie _the_ _orphan_. "I'm Rachel, Rachel Berry."

"Finn Hudson and it's no problem, really. It comes with being a giant." He frowns, "Is this for like a dog?" He asks as he examines the bottle since she still hasn't taken it from him.

"No," she bites her lip and she gets this crazy, challenging look in her eyes, "It's for my son."

"Oh," he says dumbly as his eyes automatically land on her left hand. There's no ring. If there's no ring he might stand a chance, right?

She seems disappointed as she grabs the bottle from him and puts in in her shopping basket. "It was nice meeting you, Finn."

"Wait!" He says a little too loud, causing an old lady to turn around and glare at him. _I'm sorry I didn't know this was a library_ he thinks before he realizes his mind has drifted off again and Rachel is staring at him like he's crazy.

"I mean, wait?" He takes a step closer, "I mean, you're not married?" Okay, dumb question. Who even asks that? The look on her face is like, excruciatingly painful for him to see. He's such a dumb ass - he should just leave before he embarrasses himself even more. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like - "

"It's fine," she smiles a little, biting down on her bottom lip. "No, I'm not. My former lover Jesse couldn't stand the fact I got all the good roles on Broadway _and_ the better hair."

He grins at her, hoping he's not creeping her out as he looks down at her, "Well, then how about dinner?"

"I'd like that."

x

"Okay, everybody take five," Brittany tells her five year old students, smiling before walking over to her bag and grabbing a bottle of water.

"I think we should push Stacey a little harder, she might be able to win the championship if we do," her best friend Santana tells her as she opens up her own water bottle and empties it in gulp.

"Yeah, maybe," Brittany sighs as she sits down on the floor and leans back against the mirror. She watches one girl twirl around until she gets dizzy and has to close her eyes.

"What's wrong, Britt?" Santana smiles knowingly as she slides down the mirror and sits down next to the blonde.

"I was watching Oprah the other night and there was this chocolate colored man talking about marriage and I want to marry Sam, _so bad_ but I don't think he wants to marry me, San," she tells the Latina, knowing there's no point in lying to her.

"I feel you, Britt. You need to tie down that big-lipped avatar loving freak before someone else snatches him and his nice six pack away and that's not going to happen unless you require him to. I mights like the ladies and I mights hate to read but I gots myself that book, by that man you saw on Oprah, and he's got some usual stuff in there, Britt."

"Reading confuses me. There's too many letters," Brittany sighs sadly but Santana nudges her shoulder with hers.

"I'm almost finished with the book and when I do finish I'll tell you all you need to know, Britt."

Brittany smiles in response, "Thank you. I just want my unicornal wedding."

"I know, sweetie. We're going to tie Malibu Ken down once and for all."

"Who's Ken?

x

"Pass me that weight," Blaine tells Sam as he sits down on one of the benches and starts lifting.

"Totally did two chicks in one night yesterday," Jake gloats, smirking as he walks into the gym.

"Nice," Puck high fives him as he nods his head approvingly.

"You guys are seriously disgusting sometimes," Sam chuckles, shaking his head.

"Doesn't it ever get boring?" Jake suddenly asks, turning to Mike and Sam. "I mean, doing the same chick for like ever?"

"Marriage is fun," Mike raises his eyebrows as he stops doing sit-ups for a minute.

"Seriously, Michael?" Blaine looks disgusted and offended at the same time.

"I've been with Brittany for five years now but it's never boring, I mean - I love her, she's amazing. I don't need a different chick every night while I got the hottest on of them all," Sam grins to himself, shrugging.

"You're disgusting," Puck snickers. "You totally lost your balls and Brittany's wearing them around her neck."

"Shut up. You're just jealous. I mean yesterday we stayed up all night as I taught her the second na'vi alphabet, and she totally digged it. I mean, my girlfriend's obviously better than each and every one of you," Sam smirks smugly.

Jake shakes his head, "She only does that shit for you, bro."

"No way. She was like smiling the entire time."

"No girl, dead or alive, like to be taught the damn na'vi alphabet. At night," Puck informs him about the facts of life as he gets down on the floor and starts doing push-ups.

Suddenly, Finn walks in, a huge smile on his face and Blaine has a total flashback to high school when Finn accidentally took too many vitamins and didn't sleep for two days.

"Are you stoned?" Sam asks him, frowning.

"Nope, just happy," Finn retorts, his smile not even fading a little. If anything, it widens.

"What the hell has you so excited if it's not drugs?" Puck cocks an eyebrow as he stares at his best friend.

"I met a girl. Her name's Rachel and she's so amazing, she's like so beautiful and pretty and she has the nicest legs. We're going on a date tomorrow night."

"Splendid," Blaine whispers sadly as he fixes his hair with a little sweat. Kurt has nice legs.

x

Puck sighs loudly as he turns on the millionth Abba song. He hates weddings. He hates Abba. The only reason he's doing this is to pursue his dreams, he reminds himself. DJ'ing at weddings and bar mitzvahs sucks and it doesn't pay much but it's something. Money is money.

"Can I make a request?"

He inwardly rolls his eyes, focusing on looking for that damn Journey CD. If they wanted sappy music at least he could make sure it was somewhat awesome. "I don't do requests."

"Can't you make an exception?" His head snaps up and he tries to not let her smokin' hot face get to his mind and cloud his judgement.

"Nope."

"Fine," she states, throwing her blonde hair over her right shoulder before resting her hand on her hip.

"Fine," he repeats, not letting her win this. He crosses his arm and she cocks an eyebrow, pursing her lips. Looks like he isn't the only one not backing down.

"Fine," she doesn't hesitate to respond as she narrows her eyes.

"_Fine_. One request."

"Anything that's not Abba, perhaps? That'd be good. No Abba."

"No Abba," he repeats her again and he's starting to realize he's sounding like an idiot.

She flashes him a quick smirk, before walking back over to her friend. Well, shit he's kind of staring.

"She's outta yo' league, man," Artie, the dude who's in the videotaping business (he runs into him a lot and ever since Puck asked him if he made _adult movies_ he got all up in his grill at every wedding/bar mitzvah/teen prom they attended - it was a joke, seriously), snickers but Puck eyes only light up more.

He likes a challenge.

x

"I can't believe Mercedes tied the deal before me," Rachel mutters as she leans against the bar.

"She didn't, you just didn't tie him up tight enough," Quinn takes a sip of her wine before continuing, "Besides, not everything between you two is a competition."

"I guess so," Rachel sighs, taking a sip of her own liquor.

"What's up with you?" Quinn laughs as she looks over at her best friend, "You never give up this easily. Five years ago you would have considered kidnapping Mercedes fiancé before the wedding march."

"I don't know I'm just happy," the brunette turns to look at her before quietly adding, "I met a guy."

"You met a guy?" Quinn repeats loudly, causing Rachel to elbow her between the ribs. Hard. "Hey!"

"Well sorry I didn't want you to announce my very private personal life to what could be a horde of paparazzi or social media stalkers trying to get the new Rachel Barbra Berry - Broadway star - snoop. Now I'm going to have to troll the Broadway chatrooms to dispose of any rumours. Damnit Quinn," Rachel mutters the latter part, already pulling out her iPhone.

Quinn pulls the iPhone out of her hand. "Please, nobody cares."

"That's rude!"

"This is big news, Rachel, I mean - you got divorced four years ago it must've been like six years since you last had sex," Quinn smirks at the tinier woman, stuffing the iPhone in said woman's purse.

"Very funny," Rachel narrows her eyes, before a small smile forms on her lips, "It's all thanks to Steve Harvey, I mean without his book -"

"Please don't tell me you buy that crap," Quinn frowns, downing her drink in one gulp. "This is ridiculous. And so anti-feminist of you, Rachel. I mean -"

"Calm down, normally I would take this opportunity to prove to you that I am in fact a feminist, one that shaves her legs, thank you very much, by diving into my broad collection of hit songs about said subject but right now is not the time," Rachel puts a hand on the blonde's arm, hesitating before adding. "When is the last time _you_ got any? Seven years?"

"Now that's _not_ rude?" Quinn glares at her, telling the bartender to hand her another glass of wine.

"Come on, Quinn, I mean you're busy twenty-four-seven being a big shot lawyer. _I_ barely see you anymore. Do you even have time to date or do you just use your old friend _Vic the vibra_-"

"Vic? Seriously, Rach, Vic?" Quinn turns away to face the dance floor, refusing to look at her friend. She must be intoxicated. "You're bringing this up at a wedding in broad daylight?"

"It's not my fault Mercedes chose to have a distasteful daylight wedding and you brought it up first," Rachel defends herself, moving her bangs out of her eyes. They both lean back against the bar and sigh.

"I'm not dating, not right now. I'm happy, like this," Quinn states in a whisper a few moments later.

"I'm happy for you. So be happy for me, even if it's in spite of a book," Rachel finally looks at her again and Quinn turns to look at her, too, before nodding.

x

"At least tell me she has big boobs," Puck asks him, throwing up a piece of popcorn and trying to catch it with his mouth.

Mike rolls his eyes, kicking Puck off his couch. "Tina will kill you if you get drool all over her new carpet."

"_She_ will kill me?" Puck shakes his head, repeating the same actions as before, now from his position on the floor. "You're a pussy, man."

"She doesn't, not really," Finn stumbles on the words, "She has a nice butt, though. Like a really nice one. And she has a pretty smile, like one of the prettiest one I've ever seen."

"I've got a huge hangover and you whining about some chick isn't making it any better," Jake mumbles, his body spread over the couch and his face covered with sunglasses and a pillow.

"So do her, what's the problem?" Puck shoots Finn a disbelieving look and Finn shakes his head.

"No, she's special, I don't want to rush it and ruin it. I don't know, maybe I'm ready for a relationship."

"Did he just say the R-word?" Jake finally and slowly lifts his head up to look at them.

"Relationships are cool," Mike tells them and Jake is the one to push him off the couch.

"They are, kind of. You don't have to try as hard anymore, like you can just be yourself all the time," Sam supports his friend.

"Whatever. You know what's cool, too? Sex. Lots of it. With a lot of different woman," Jake retorts, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

"I bet you're bored," Finn tells Jake, one of those _leaderish_ looks on his face. "You're jealous because you're getting bored with all this sleeping around but you're too afraid to admit it."

Blaine comes in with another bowl of snacks and a drink in his hand. Frowning, he exclaims, "Guys, I totally missed the beginning of Grey's Anatomy! Now the ending won't make any sense. Damnit."

x

_The Non-Committer vs. The Girl Who Wants the Ring_

"Babe?" Sam yells, his eyes wide as he walks around his apartment. All of his stuff. Gone. His avatar posters and Tom Cruise movies and his _play station_! His play station. "I think we got robbed. Call the police."

She comes from the kitchen wearing an apron, her hair pulled back as she smiles at him. "No, silly. I just thought we should -" she looks down at her hand, at the word Santana had made her write down there before because she kept confusing it with _repopulate_ which meant something entirely different. _There's time for that, later_, Santana had told her. "Redecorate."

"Redecorate?"

She nods excitedly, leaning in for a kiss as she puts her arm around his waist. She looks at their livingroom. "Sometimes when I come home from work I feel like I'm in Narnia. Narnia is awesome but sometimes I have nightmares about the giant blue giants coming into our home and smothering me with Obi Wan's dress."

"It's not a dress, Britt," he corrects, "It's like a really long blouse."

"San helped me," she exclaims, ignoring his previous statement as she pulls out a IKEA catalogue. "I know your favorite color is blue like those Avatars so I circled some stuff I think would look so pretty with blue. We can't use any wool though, Lord Tubbington is allergic."

Sam nods his head, silently looking at the pages. She nudges her shoulder into his softly, smiling just enough to make him smile. "I just want a home for the two of us. Please?"

He nods his head, squeezing her hip, "Fine, but you can pick out everything. I'd rather sit through another episode of One Tree Hill than go through that catalogue."

Her smiles widens, as she taps him on the chest, "I bet you do, Sammy, because last time you cried when Brooke got her babies."

"She went through a lot, okay? I just - there was something in my eye," he nods his head to himself, all the while forcing images of cars and beer into his mind. He's a _man_.

"Yeah, tears, Sam," she teases him as she leans her head on his shoulder.

"You can do whatever you want, baby, I'll - I'm fine as long as I don't have to help pick any of it out."

"Great!" She exclaims, placing a kiss on his cheek before rushing back into the kitchen.

He mutters to himself as he scans the empty walls. "I'm screwed."

x

_The Player vs. The 90 Day Rule Girl_

"The 90 day rule? Have you lost your mind?" Kitty looks at Marley as if she has just murdered eighteen of her kittens as they walk to their favorite nightly hang out.

"In the book it said, that - you know, I should my respect myself and I think I should. A guy is not worthy of me if he can't wait 90 days for sex."

"Miranda! What's up, girl?" It's Ryder, holding up a hand for her to high five.

She high fives it, damning herself two seconds later as Kitty diggs her nails into her other arm, pulling her closer.

"It was a reflex, I'm sorry."

Kitty only raises her eyebrows.

"We should hang out sometime," Ryder winks at her.

"S-sure," she stumbles over her words, already cursing herself before it's even left her mouth.

"You take your _puppy-eyed-pretty-puberale-face-bad-Bieber-cut-pat hetic-excuse-of-a-man-self _away right now before I dig my nails into your face and give you a free Kitty-Wilde-plasty," the blonde shoots him a glare, crossing her arms as she watches him scurry away like the wind. She turns back to Marley. "You're right, boys are like poison for you. I'm starting to think this rule is a good idea."

Marley laughs as she links her arm with her friend and they enter the bar.

"I'm honestly done with guys, Kit, I mean - he called me Miranda. Miranda. Not even Maya or Marlon or Mandy. He didn't even bother to memorize more than two letters. Two letters. That's all I'm worth to him."

Kitty nods her head as she orders their usual drinks. A dirty martini for herself and a _virgin_ cosmo for Marley. Same old _boring_.

"In Steve Harvey's book he explains that when you work at Ford you don't get a contract until you've worked there 90 days. 90 days to see if you come in on time and do your job well - if it takes 90 days to get a contract I should respect myself enough to wait 90 days."

"So you're comparing yourself to a car?" Kitty takes a sip of her martini, raising both of her eyebrows.

"A car company," Marley corrects her friend, "But yes. I think it's a good thing. Waiting. Sex should be something special."

"Girl, boys are like lumps of coal. They are dirty and cheap and they get hot when they're rubbed. And some of them turn into diamonds, so collect as many as you can," Kitty raises her glass and clinks it with Marley's before downing it and ordering another.

"My cookie jar will stay closed from now on," Marley nods her head determinedly and Kitty just gives her a disbelieving look. "Your cookie jar, really, Marley? Really? That'll surely keep you from getting laid."

"Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?"

"Oh my, yes," Kitty gushes as they both turn their head to find an attractive guy giving them a smoldering look.

"No," Marley states, looking away from him. Let's be honest, she's a strong girl but a girl can only resist this much. She couldn't even resist the guy who ditched her and called her Miranda because he winked at her. Winked.

"She means yes," Kitty gives Marley a look.

"Definitely no," Marley says firmly, giving Kitty a hard stare before turning back to her drink.

"Excuse me for a second," Kitty smiles sweetly at the guy before turning back to her friend. "Marley! I know you got this crazy 90 day rule on your mind but he is smoking hot. With a capital H."

"No, I know exactly how this is going to turn out. He'll buy us a drink, I fall for his brown eyes and charming smile and tomorrow I'll be in my bed. Alone."

"I am going to strangle you. He's a total catch!"

"So you take him!" Marley challenges her back and Kitty huffs, crossing her arms.

"You're insane," she exclaims. No way she was going to pass up this arm candy. If Marley didn't want him she'll surely take him.

The guy clears his throat but to no such luck.

"Well, yeah, you drive me crazy."

"I know I do," another guy's voice sounds from directly beside her and she slowly turns her head. She finds an even more attractive guy (really? like, _seriously_?) and he smirks at her.

"God hates me," she mutters to herself and Kitty nudges her in the ribs. "I'll be with this _fine_ gentleman," Kitty winks at her, walking away with the first guy.

"Don't leave me alone with him!" Marley yells after her but to no avail. She sighs, turning back to find an amused look on his face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be offensive but I just came out of a really bad relationship - if you could call it a relationship - I mean his name was Ryder Lynn and he was so cute and when he smiled my brain just shut down, you know? In reality he was such, such a jerk! Like a huge jerk, _huge_. And I'm normally really nice and normal - so normal - and not this crazy and I never talk this much - I swear! God, why am I even talking to you? I mean it's not like I'm interested in you or anything or I'm trying to impress you and I can't breathe," she finally stops ranting, her cheeks tinted red by now as she avoids his gaze.

"What kind of name is Ryder Lynn anyway? It sounds like his parents named him after a cowgirl doll that came with her own pony," he smiles, and her head snaps up (and _damnit_, he already has her smiling). He sticks out his hand.

"I'm Jake."

She bites her lip before giving in and shaking his hand.

"Marley."

x

_The Dreamer vs. The Woman Who Is Her Own Man_

"Thirty bucks for one night of total pain in the ass music," Puck sighs as he counts his money, closing up the door of his van.

He drops his key, muttering curse words to himself as he bends down to pick up. When he gets back up he notices the smokin' blonde from before. Before he knows it, his feet are taking him towards her.

"You again," she states simply, continuing to stare at the road.

"Me again," and he seriously has to stop fucking repeating her. "What's a lady like you doing out so late all by herself?"

"Are you actually concerned or are you just trying to make sure I am in fact alone so you can haul me off in your van?" A small smirk appears on her lips and she still doesn't look at him. She's definitely.. something.

"None of the above. I don't do chicks above thirty."

She now does turn her head to look at him, and she doesn't look amused. "You think I'm thirty? Thirty?"

"Made you look," he smiles and she rolls her eyes.

"What are you? Five?"

"Ouch," he puts a hand over his hard as he fakes being in pain.

"So you do this often? Playing the DJ? To be honest you're not really any good at it. Not much variety."

"What did Abba ever do to make you hate them so much?"

"Exist."

"You're pretty mean, aren't you?"

"If by mean, you mean honest - then yes. So do you?"

"Do I what?"

"DJ a lot," she looks at him as if he's stupid and to be honest he's never actually felt this stupid because of someone else before. He stopped doing that after high school. Yet, she's under his skin in no time.

"Oh no, I'm a good friend of the groom. I - I normally don't this kind of low profile work. Just cashing in a favour," he nods his head to himself as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"What do you do?" And for the first time she actually sounds interesting.

"I produce music." It's not a lie, he does, it's just not mainstream music and nobody actually listens to it, but he does - produce music.

"You're a music producer?" She doesn't sound skeptical - like she is judging him by the way he looks. Like someone like him could never be a music producer. She genuinely think it could be true. It feels good to finally not be underestimated. Especially by a stranger. A hot one.

"Mhmm," he agrees and she sends him a smile.

"That's amazing. I mean - I just do simple desk work." Lie. But he doesn't know that.

A car drives towards them and he figures that's her ride. Now or never.

"Well, how about a simple date?" He asks, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

"Wow, you have no game," she laughs, slipping a card into her hand. "Call me."

He's resisting the urge to jump up and do his victory dance - but since he _does_ has game, thank you very much, he resists. "I'm Puck, by the way."

She smiles, before slipping into the car. "Quinn."

"Nice to meet you," he says silently to himself as she drives away.

Score.

x

"So, Joseph, baby," Rachel clears her throat as she straightens her skirt before sitting down on the couch. She really shouldn't let him play those vulgar violent video games but one time when she bought him educational games he tried flushing them through the toilet.

"It's Joe, mom," he groans, not taking his eyes off the tv.

"Joe," she tries again, pausing for a moment. "I met someone."

"A guy or a girl?"

She smacks the back of his head, gasping, "Why would you even ask that, Joseph?"

"I heard grandpa and grandpapa talking about it the other day. They were starting to wonder," he says offended as he rubs the back of his head and pausing his game. "Jesus mom."

"It's a _guy_, his name is Finn and I just thought you should know."

"Whatever."

Rachel ignores him, continuing, "I don't want you to feel threatened in any way, baby, I mean you'll always be the number one guy in my life and I love you so much - "

"Mom, I really don't care. I'm playing Call Of Duty."

x

"I met this smoking hot chick and she totally digs me, I can tell - but I had to lie in order to get her which is like totally bad karma or some shit, right?" Puck asks them, dribbling the basketball before throwing it to Blaine.

"Totally," Jake retorts sarcastically as he flicks Blaine against the chest and takes the ball from him.

"Yep," Finn answers, throwing his own basket ball into the hoop.

"So I should tell her the truth?" Puck asks them, taking his towel from the bench and wiping his head.

"No!" Sam shakes his head violently.

"The truth is for when you've got her on lockdown. Don't hit her with it when she can still escape," Jake fills him in. "The best relationships start with lies."

"Yeah, when she finds out she'll dump your ass in two seconds," Finn adds, throwing his ball at Puck.

"So I shouldn't tell her the truth?"

"No," Mike frowns, "You should. If she finds out later that you lied to her the entire time - she'll probably end up resenting you."

"What does he know? He's Asian," Jake huffs.

"That's racist and considering that besides Sam I'm the only one here with stable relationship - I'd know," Mike tells him, determinedly.

"Whatever. Just ride it out, dude, see what happens," Sam shrugs idly.

"You know who was good at lying? Kurt. He said he likes my bowties and then ten years later we're sitting around a table filing our divorce and he snorts and says I can have all the bowties. Like it's a joke!"

"We know, bro," Finn sighs, putting a hand on his shoulder, a few of the others already rolling their eyes.

Blaine lets out a small sob, "You know how long it took me to perfect the art of tying a bow tie? Does this look like a joke to you?!"

x

"Britt!" Sam yells frantically, "Where's my playstation?"

"I have it to goodwill, so they can give it to the little homeless kids for christmas."

"It's January!"

"So? You said yourself christmas is your favorite time of the year and it's never too early to give someone a christmas present," she pouts, tugging on his sweater.

"Babe, that play station was like my baby - my child - you gave away my child," he explains to her, running a hand through his hair.

She kisses him and she's really smart because she knows it distracts him and he can't really think about his playstation when her tongue is in his mouth and her hand is running up his chest, now can he?

x

Black. Tight. Sequins. Leather. Short.

"You look hot!" Kitty pretends to fan herself, "He won't know what hit him."

"I don't want to look hot. I don't want to be a sport fish."

"Honey, I hate to break it to you but you ain't a fish at all," Kitty takes a sip from her champagne since it's five o'clock somewhere.

"No, the book," Marley says, looking at herself in her the mirror. "There are two sorts of fish. The one you take home to eat and then there's the sport fish. The one you show off before you dump it back in the sea."

"This book is making you craycray. First there's cars, now fish? What's next? Robotic ducks?"

"I want this to be perfect," Marley tells her, pulling the dress over her head. "I want this to last."

Innocent. Knee-long. Flower print. _Innocent_. Perfect.

"In that case," Kitty smirks smugly, "Pull out the granny panties."

x

"You look... hot," Puck smirks as he takes her hand and leads her to his car.

"Why thank you. You're a real gentleman," she says sarcastically but she's smiling, so that's good, that's definitely good.

They get into the car and Puck clears his throat, making Blaine look up from his phone a.k.a. pictures of or old text messages from Kurt.

"Good evening ma'am, I'm Blaine and I'll be your driver for the night."

"Blaine, bro," Puck leans forward slightly, smirking, "Your mascara is running."

Blaine glares at him, smacking his head, "You're a horrible person." He turns to Quinn, "He's a horrible person."

"I agree," she says amused before Blaine turns back and starts driving.

They go to a little restaurant that looks hella expensive but luckily he knows the owner from way back and he owes him a favour so it all works out. The plan is in motion.

"Who's music have you produced?" She asks him as she cuts her steak in half. She's not kosher but he can deal with that because she, is like, fucking hot and perfect.

"Uhm, I do a lot of Indie bands, you wouldn't know them. It's my dream to write and sing my own songs but -" He looks up at her and realizes what he's saying. "You probably don't care. It's dumb."

"No, no," she smiles, putting her hand on his arm, "I do. It's not dumb it's a dream and dreams are important, dreams are good. I like dreams."

She's like the first person in his life to ever tell him that and it's like - no, like it's like just - no. He can't fall for her. He doesn't fall. Like, at all. That's fucking dumb.

x

**to be continued soon! if you review i will forever creepily love you :)**


	2. the best thing

**sorry for the long wait.. school, man. i didn't want to leave you guys waiting any longer so i decided to make this a potential four (or possibly 5) shot depending on how everything plays out. thanks for all the great responses! ! ! hope you guys enjoy this as much as i do writing it :)**

x

"Oh my God, when he fell flat on his face - that was the funniest thing I've seen in my entire life," Marley laughs, linking her arm through his because it just_ feels_ good, you know.

"Yeah, I normally don't do comedy movies but hearing you laugh that hard was definitely worth going through again."

They stop in front of his car and he leans back against it, and so does she.

"So you would say it's better than going to a club and 'shaking your booty'?" She jokes as she looks up at him.

He laughs loudly, "Yes, it's definitely better than _shaking your booty_."

"Yeah, dancing's totally lame I always end up breaking something."

"It can be fun. I dance, at least I used to," he defends himself lamely. Not a good conversation on the first date.

"Yeah, right. What was your style?"

"If I tell you, I'm going to have to kill you."

"Fine. Then I'll guess. Hip hop?"

"That's the most racist thing I've ever heard," he chuckles and she punches him in the shoulder softly with a smile on her face.

She narrows her eyes playfully, "Streetdance. No, no - _ballet_!" She laughs, raising her eyebrows skeptically, "Imagine that - ballet!" When she sees the look on his face, she gasps, poking him in the chest. "It's ballet, isn't it!"

"Yup, I had a scholarship to Juilliard and all," he smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"What happened?"

"Life. I broke my foot, I didn't recover fast enough and they dropped the scholarship. By the time I recovered I was already halfway through community college and I - just - figured that dancing should just remain a hobby."

"Do you ever wish you had gone on?" She asks softly and he focuses his eyes on anything but her.

"I don't know, it's stupid, I mean - I have a great job, I earn tons of money and I'm happy. I am..." His voice trails off as he shrugs and looks out at the street.

"But sometimes you wonder what could have been," she adds for him and he looks at her before slowly nodding. She leans her head back against his car and looks at the stars. They remain silent for while, his eyes on her and hers on the dark sky.

"Show me," she states turning her head to look at him as her eyes light up.

He crosses his arms sternly as he tries to hide his smile. She looks almost _cute_ when she's so excited. "I'm _not_ going to dance for you, I haven't done it in years and it's kind of lame."

"You don't have to, but come on! You have to have a video or something. I've never met a dancer who didn't videotape his own routines to see where they could improve it," shechallenges him and he shakes his head.

"I don't."

"So that's why you're reaching for your phone?"

"Yes, to delete it so I never get into this situation ever again," he jokes and she smiles as she leans against his body to look at his phone.

He starts the video and puts one arm around her shoulder so they can both watch it together (well, and because he really wants to touch her).

"You're so talented," she gushes as she leans closer into him, her eyes fixated on his iPhone.

x

Brittany jumps down on the couch next to him, folding her legs beneath her as she rests her chin on his shoulder and tries to look at what he's doing on his tablet.

"Britt, do you want something?" He asks, his voice amused as he puts his tablet down and turns to look at her.

She shrugs as she sits down on her butt and straightens her dress. She's wearing her glasses for the first time since college and her hair is pinned up. "What are your long term goals, Sam?"

He starts laughing, until he sees the serious look on her face. "Why are you dressed like a librarian?"

"Don't avoid the subject, Sam," she says firmly as she looks him in the eyes and he blinks a few times. They usually don't do serious. They're more joking around, having fun, doing nothing kind of people.

"Uhm, I - I want to get over my hatred for green eggs with ham," he licks his lips as he puts his arm behind Brittany on the couch and she sighs sadly.

"Sam.." She says, playing with a button on his button down and he nods his head slowly.

"I want you to be the best you can be and I don't think you are right now," she says in her tough-love voice as she looks up at him. "I think you could be the president or a professional stripper or even an alien if you want to. I mean you could be _anything_, Sam. I know so."

He nods his head quietly as she leans up to kiss him before leaving him alone with his thoughts.

x

"Oh my God," Quinn breathes heavily against his skin as his hand moves up her thigh and under her skirt while he presses her against the door, moving closer towards her.

His lips are everywhere and it feels so good she could cry right now. Not that that was a great idea considering they were about to have sex and although she's a crier right now was not the time.

"Are you sure?" He pants against her neck before attaching his lips to her soft skin again.

She pulls on his hand, leading him to her bedroom and closing the door behind them. She pulls her blouse over her head, sending him a smirk, which she hopes sends a _sexy_ vibe, not an _it's been months, if not years and i might cry after _one.

"Positive."

x

Their date is perfect. He's never met anyone like her and he really wanted to try but with her it was so easy and normal and he could be so much like himself that he didn't even need to try, which was like, totally awesome because an hour (like literally an _hour _- that dude has the the worst timing) before he picked up Rachel, Blaine had pretty much depressed talked him out of it with his 'love is fake and she has a kid and you're too immature and she won't like you she's too high maintenance for you and in ten years when you're married you'll regret not listening to me' fucking bullshit crap _shitcrap_. Blaine was totally wrong and a total douchebag, too.

Rachel was not high maintenance and she did have a kid but she was cute when she laughed and her eyes crinkled a little and she was so pretty with her hair and eyes shining in the light of the restaurant and he was pretty sure that even when it was dark she'd still be _that_ pretty and she was literally perfect and perfect people didn't get weird kids so the kid couldn't be that bad.

She looks at him as they stop at her door, shyly brushing some of her hair behind her ear as she stares at her feet.

"I had a really nice time, Finn," she says, voice confident and he wonders how that could be. How does she manage to be so insecure but yet confident at the same time? He'd like to learn, because right now, looking at her, his mind is blank. He wants to tell her he had the best time he's ever had and how beautiful she is and how he pretty much wants to be part of her life from now on but he's so nervous all he can blurt out is something stupid about his mom.

"My mom likes to cook," his eyes widen as he brain process the words he just basically flapped out with no warning whatsoever.

She opens her mouth to speak, her eyes sparkling a little with amusement but he cuts her off.

"I mean, she likes to cook. A lot of things. And she likes to try out new recipes and she'd probably like to try out something vegan because she's never cooked vegan and maybe you could come try it out because, you know, you're a vegan. Or not, come try it out I mean, because you are a virgin. Vegan! I mean vegan. Oh God," he closes his eyes, momentarily turning away from her as he curses himself before pulling himself together.

She's still looking at him with that amazing smile and those amused eyes when he turns back around as she tilts her head lightly, inviting him to tell her what he really wants to say. (She kind of gets him, you know, and it's pretty awesome)

"What I tried to ask you was - I want you to meet my mom."

She leans up, standing on her tiptoes as she kisses him. "I'd love for you to meet my son," she answers, a small smile playing on her lips and he nods his head, the rest of his body (and brain) frozen as he stares at her pink, shiny lips.

He leans down, kissing her again and it's like finding a shoe that's been missing in your room for five months because you were too lazy to clean up before and then it got so lost you didn't find it until now and it's not like he's comparing her kisses to a stinky shoe but he kind of feels complete when he does, when he kisses her, and he doesn't think he can ever stop -

"That's disgusting."

They break apart to find her son standing in the door opening, arms crossed as he rolls his eyes. "I was in the middle of Call of Duty and then the window turned dark but I guess I should've known you brought home a giant who likes to block the stupid porch lights."

"Call of Duty? Really? Which mission are you at, dude?" His eyes lighten up as he looks at the tiny dude when he realizes it's Rachel's tiny dude so he should like, not call him dude, "I mean, little bro."

He scrunches up his face when he realizes how weird that sounds when he just like, kissed the dude's mom but Rachel is giggling a little and he's turning red and he's pretty sure the little one is giving him the stink eye, so he lets it go because he'll only end up making it worse (him and his word vomit, it's so dumb).

"Twelve," he finally answers, with a little resistance but he loosens up a bit, staring up at the tall man in front of him.

"No way! I've been stuck at eleven for two months now, it's getting annoying."

"You have to get the guard first and then the -"

"Okay, okay, you should already be in bed, mister!" Rachel interrupts them, obviously not fond of ending her night with a discussion about COD.

"Mom,_ seriously_?" Joseph growls as she pushes him inside.

"I'll call you later, okay?"

She nods and quickly leans up for one last goodbye peck. The last thing he remembers before she closes the door is a disgusted groan from Joseph and Rachel's radiant smile.

x

Holy Jesus.. Resisting Jake Puckerman is like climbing the mount everest or swimming across the atlantic ocean - it's frigging hard.

She's leaning against her front door and he's hovering over her, leaning against his arm he put above her head and he's so handsome and he's such a good kisser and every time he leans down to kiss her again she feels her defense crumble (she'd say that it were tiny, little crumbs of defense but to be honest his lips on her are making crumbs the size of icebergs disappear).

He leans down again and kisses her and she kisses him back because how could she not and then she has to push him away before it all gets out of hand. She opens the door, making a point of not looking at him before she turns back around and gives him a smile.

"Bye Jake."

"You're not going to let me up for a nightcap?" He raises his eyebrows and he's literally perfect and she thinks every time he looks at her like he wants to, you know, do the _thing_ she wants to avoid she feels special but she also knows that if she wants it to last, if she wants him to last, she can't.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry but I can't, Jake," she bites her lip, her eyes saddening and she hopes that he'll want her anyway but if he doesn't she knows he's not the guy for her. "Call me?"

He looks disappointed but he nods before sending her a gorgeous smile.

"Of course."

x

She wakes up from the best sleep she's had in awhile and she feels good. When she reaches over with her hand, there's no one there and slightly panicking she sits up but thens he spots him out on the balcony with an old guitar that used to belong to a distant family member. Her heart settles down a little in her chest and she pretends she doesn't care he's still here or had he been gone. It's not like they were in a committed relationship.

She gets up and quickly brushes her teeth before touching her make-up a little and making sure her hair doesn't look _too_ sleepy.

"Hey," she smiles as he turns his head around and she admires how hot he really is. He's shirtless and he's talented and her fifteen year old self would've jumped at the opportunity to date a musician. She's not fifteen though (yet she still would very much like to jump his bones anyway) so she has to go for the more subtle approach.

"Hey," he gets up from his seat and puts the guitar down before kissing her once, twice and then they're on her bed and really, he's not complaining.

He momentarily looks up from kissing her neck to admire her when he spots something in the corner of his eye.

"Who's that?" He questions, pointing at the only picture on her nightstand. It's a chick with a elephant's trunk for a nose and a little boy with a missing front tooth next to Quinn in front of the _disney world_ sign.

"Oh, it's my godson, Joseph and my best friend, Rachel," she tells him before pulling his mouth back to hers.

And seriously, nobody can blame him for not connecting the dots when she's all sexy and flirty and kissing him. They can't.

x

"She won't let me upstairs until we've had five dates," Jake groans as he browses through Blaine's extensive dvd collection. It took him about half an hour to get through all the musicals and chick flicks and it's left him with two options. Either they watch the lion king or he goes and rent a _real_ movie.

"Is she a muslim?" Blaine asks, his bushy eyebrows raising as he watches the mess Jake made of his previously alphabetized dvd's. (Kurt's idea so he pretends he doesn't care. He likes to be wild now and then, so see if he cares when they -k is next to the -d)

"No, she's not a muslim," Jake snaps, tightening his jaw, "Just playing really, really hard to get."

"What's taking Finn so long with the snacks?" Sam says, patting his hard stomach,"After my two hour workout I deserve one or two cool ranch doritos."

As if on cue, Finn walks in, his giant hands filled with fast food. "Where's Mike?"

"Probably drowning himself in the agonizing pain and despair of marriage," Blaine remarks, his voice shaking a little nearing the end of the sentence, grabbing the bowl of popcorn out of Finn's hand and stuffing his face with it as he tries to hide the tears in his eyes.

Finn gives Sam a weird look who just shrugs in response. It's not a real macho guys night unless Blaine cries, after all.

"Puckzilla scored again, you mofos!" Puck barges through the door with a huge smirk on his face as he takes a beer from the table and leans back on the couch, one hand behind his head.

"Atta boy!" Sam smiles as he leans forward to high five his friend.

"So?" Blaine cuts into the conversation, sniffing a little, "She'll probably run once she finds out the truth about your poor lying ass."

"Rude," Finn punches his arm, giving him a look and being friends with Blaine sometimes really is like raising a five year old.

"This one is special, I can feel it," Puck ignores

"I'd like to watch West Side Story," Blaine says to no one in particular as he picks up the dvd from the coffee table and admires the cover. "I once played Tony."

"Yeah, I bet she felt it last night," Jake snickers lowly to himself and his brother throws the remote to his head in response, missing him by an inch.

"It's so romantic guys, not that romance is real, but we could pretend for a while, you know for the next two hours and thirty six minutes," Blaine interjects once again but nobody is really listening.

"Whatever you do, just don't tell her," Sam urges, nodding his head to himself, "Truth is like pee. Once it gets out, only crazy people that are stranded in the middle of nowhere get it back in."

Blaine huffs, crossing his arms, "Men are disgusting. At least Tony knows how to please a woman."

"If we let you watch the damn movie will you stop whining like a little bitch baby?" Puck snaps and Blaine scrunches up his nose in response.

"You are _vile_, Puckerman."

He spits back without skipping a beat, "Yeah, well, Tony dies."

Finn sighs, rubbing his face as he frowns, "Great, Puck, now you made him cry!"

"Here, have some tissues," Sam claps him on the back awkwardly, offering him the box.

Blaine chokes on his next words as he takes the box from the blonde. "Kurt used this brand of tissues!"

"It's Kleenex, everybody uses Kleenex," Puck mumbles aggravatedly earning a glare from everyone in the room besides Blaine who's busy hugging the box of tissues.

Jake puts the dvd in the player as he warns his brother with narrowed eyes, "_Not_ helping!"

x

"And then he bought me flowers when he walked me to work and he kissed me goodbye and oh God, Rachel, he's on my mind the entire day, it's getting ridiculous," Quinn says, flustered red as leans her chin on her fist and lets out a small sigh.

"So you really like him, huh?" Rachel teasingly smiles at her as she takes a sip of her vegan milkshake.

"I'm thinking about his sex the entire day, Rachel, not him, his sex, his great, hot, sex!" Quinn quickly defends herself and Rachel just 'hmm's in response.

"I'm serious, I don't even know what he makes, which is the foundation of the future of a relationship, let alone do I like him. We've had sex like, one or two times."

"From you explicit and elaborate storytelling, I've gathered it was seven times, eight if we count the-"

"Okay, okay, fine, I like him a _little_."

"Mhmmm," Rachel raises her eyebrows skeptically.

"Stop 'mhmm'ing me!"

x

"Hey mom," Finn kisses the older woman on the cheeks as he hands her pink and red lillies, her favorites, which he makes a point of to buy every sunday.

"Hi honey," she smiles brightly as she immediately puts the flowers in a fresh vase before pushing him towards the dining table. "I made lasagna and some pasta. Oh, I put your favorite potato salad somewhere on the table and there are some chicken wings if you feel like it."

Finn's eyes widen at all the food on the table but honestly he's not complaining. His mother has always overcooked and when she was still with Burt and Kurt was there, too (even though he was half-anorexic) it wasn't a big deal but now he often got more than he bargained for.

His mom runs a hand over his hair as she widens her smile, "And for dessert I made apple pie!"

"It looks awesome, mom," he tells her as he starts filling his plate. "Oh, by the way, I invited Rachel over for dinner, the girl I told you about, remember?"

"Yes, I think I remember the girl you couldn't stop talking about on the phone yesterday, and the day before and the day before that and the -" she smiles amused before her son interrupts her.

"I get," he blushes as he questions if he honestly talks that much about her. He doesn't, right? Sure, she's basically on his mind 24/7 but to say he talks that much about her? He hopes not, because the guys will never stop teasing him about it if he really only ever talks about her like a whipped teenage boy. Noted.

"Any allergies or special diets I need to take in consideration?" Carole asks as she turns to tap and fills a glass with some water.

"Uhm, she's vegan, I think, it's pretty cool. She's like all for animal rights and stuff but she doesn't like, force it on you, you know? Like I get to drink all the milk I want and Joey eats regular stuff that I got when I was a kid, too, so it's all cool," he says before stuffing his face in some patatoes.

"Joey?" His mom raises her eyebrows as she sends her son a skeptic look. Surely she doesn't still live at home. A roommate, perhaps?

Finn's eyes light up, as he swallows the food before retorting, "Oh, yeah, Joe, he's her son and he totally kicks ass at _call of duty_. It's awesome."

"She's a mom?" Carole explains, her eyes turning wide and Finn rolls his eyes. Not her, too.

"Yeah, she's a mom," he answers dully as he wipes his mouth with a napkin.

"That's a big responsibility, Finn, are you sure you're ready for this? And what about her husband, surely he's still -"

"I don't get the big deal," Finn cuts her off, getting a little tiny bit annoyed with all this bitching about Rachel being a mother, for god's sake, "Rachel is special and one of a kind and she's perfect and soon enough she's going to be on Broadway I can feel it, you know? Her voice is mindblowing and she's funny and like so gorgeous sometimes my head hurts when I think about how I got that lucky and she's just.." He pauses, "She makes me happy, okay, mom?"

"Okay, if you're sure, baby," his mom shoots him a conflicted and worried glance before patting his hand.

"_So_ sure."

x

"Basically you're saying you're letting your step-baby mama meet the actual mama?" Puck asks him skeptically as the hair stylist starts shaving the side of his head.

Finn lets out an aggravated sigh as he pretends to be engaged in this magazine about cars, currently placed on his lap while some chick cuts his hair a little shorter. "Yes."

"This is going to be good," Jake laughs as he brushes off his shoulders and gets into a lounge chair across from Finn, running a hand over his freshly cut hair. "Who wants to bet for ten bucks his mom will stab her _before_ the main course?"

"Me," Mike puts up his hand as he places a game of solitaire on his phone and lets

"What do you guys think about highlights?" Blaine wonders out loud as he browses through a few pictures of different hairstyles, earning a loud chorus of no's. He purses his lips, "Okay, okay. Geeze."

"No, get this," Sam leans forward, being pushed back by the hairstylist who was currently styling his blonde hair with mousse and gel, "Brittany reorganized _our _entire place. No, she, she, erased my entire identity!"

The hairstylist named Becky or Becca or something like that huffs and he sends her a small glare in response before saying a quick prayer that she doesn't mess up his hair as revenge.

"Chicks do that stuff man, better deal with it," Mike says dryly with a sigh.

"I hate it," Sam exclaims, waving his hands around, "Like everything's _pink_ and it's so clean I could literally eat from the floor and now I feel obligated to keep it that clean. Do you know how exhausting that is?"

"Sounds like she's got you right where she wants you to be," Puck snickers, earning a particular evil glare from Sam who almost throws a pair of scissors before realizing it are in fact, scissors that could potentially _murder_ his best friend.

"What about a buzz cut?" Blaine cuts in yet again, his eyes still on the pictures, earning yet another chorus of no's as he sighs, agreeing, "You guys are right. Doesn't suit me at all. It'd be a waste of good gel."

"She threw out my playstation," the blonde whines a little as he throws his head back, earning a smack from the hairstylist.

"Finally," Jake mutters and Sam looks disgusted at his words, "I can't believe you just said that."

"Listen," Jake tries to explain but Sam drowns him out with the sound of his own voice, "You're dead to me, Jacob Puckerman, _dead_."

"He's right, dude, you're like addicted to that thing. Britt could ask for sex and you would literally say 'just one more level'. It's sick," Finn divulges and Sam huffs in response.

"You're one to talk, you owe two playstations in case one breaks."

Puck sighs as he sits down next to Jake and runs a hand over his mohawk (he loves it when it's freshly cut, it just feels really awesome), "Besides the point. You owned freaky movie posters of even freakier movies and it's one thing to ttalk about them 24/7, but it's a second thing to plaster your entire living room with it. Britt was staring at those giant blue fucks during sex because they were even on the damn ceiling, man, that's just _weird_."

"Avatars," Sam closes his eyes momentarily as he counts to ten, trying not to launch at the self proclaimed badass.

"Relationships aren't just take, they're take and give and just think that if you do this for her, you'll get something in return. Maybe not now, but it'll get there," Mike shrugs a little as he send the hairstylist a smile as she finishes up.

"You are so gay," Jake snickers earning a glare from Blaine who clears his throat.

"_Excuse you_," Blaine sneers and raises his eyebrows before he turns to Sam, with a small grimace. "You're never going to win this fight. They'll get what they want, even if it means taking away every. Single. Thing. You've ever loved. At least she didn't burn all of your stuff and trust me - it can get _that_ bad.

"True, a chick once keyed my car because she saw me with some other chick," Jake nods his head affirmatively.

"One time, Kurt burned my red polka dot pants because they were 'repulsive' and 'ugly'. I locked myself in the closet for two days and when I finally came out I found out he had just been watching a marathon of _gilmore girls_ on tv! Can you believe that? _Gilmore girls_, not even something classy like one tree hill or dawson's creek."

"And they call Kurt the drama queen..."

Blaine snaps, "What was that, you inconsiderate, insensitive bastard?!"

x

**to be continued! ! ! a review would be very, very lovely :)**


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